


Travelling from Time to Time

by Es_Aitch



Series: Twelfth Doctor One Shots  Series 9 [10]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5405036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Es_Aitch/pseuds/Es_Aitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of the Doctor doing what he loves best: travelling and solving mysteries. Set between when he wakes up somewhere USA and when he’s brought to the Diner.</p><p>**SPOILERS** for “Hell Bent”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Travelling from Time to Time

**Author's Note:**

> So I had **a lot** of problems with “Hell Bent”, this fic seeks to round them out and give them explanation and make it a bit more bearable. 
> 
> In a Tweet, Ray Holman (costume designer) said the Doctor had been searching for Clara for ‘quite awhile’. So that was the inspiration for this story.
> 
> Special thanks to: http://www.chakoteya.net/ for all of the amazing transcripts! This fic would have taken so much longer to write without your site to reference.
> 
> * * *

The man in the blue baseball cap shrugged as he replied. “I don’t know where Clara went.”

The Doctor looked confused. “Clara? Clara who?”

The man shook his head. “She didn’t give me a last name. Look, is there somewhere I can drop you off?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I… I don’t know. Where am I?”

The man shook his head at the Doctor. What was up with that Clara woman and leaving him with this mess of a person? “Nevada. I was on my way to Reno. I can drop you off anywhere between here and there.”

The Doctor thought about it a moment and shrugged. “Reno is fine.”

It was a big enough city that he could probably contact someone in UNIT. Of course, without the TARDIS or his mobile, he didn’t know how he was going to do that. But, he’d start there and move forward as he could.

Sam, that was the man’s name the Doctor eventually learned, was a pleasant chap – for an American. And he kept an easy conversation going as he drove towards Reno. He was actually quite talkative, in the end, for which the Doctor was grateful, since it meant he didn’t have to talk as much. Unsure of what to do, the man dropped the Doctor off in the down town area.

The Doctor searched through his pockets. He had his sonic, confession dial, other odds and ends. He was glad he had emptied the pockets from the other jacket into this one. _Someone…. He had asked someone about having two jackets…. “Is one of them faulty?”_

He shook his head to clear it. He had more pressing matters. He needed a place to stay and he had no money. He wandered the streets of the down town area and eventually came across a pub – er bar – with what looked like boarding rooms above it. That would do. Now, what could he do to pay his way for the night?

He spoke to the bartender and got the words ‘don’t have any money’ out of his mouth when he was promptly turned away. More than turned away. More or less thrown out of the bar. He tripped and fell to the ground, right in front of two women and a man. One of the women stepped forward and knelt near him.

“Are you okay?”

Her American tone was smooth, almost melodic. She reached down to help him to stand up again.

“I think so. Just surprised.”

Her fingers brushed against the fingers of his left hand. That’s when she felt the callouses. “You play guitar!”

He offered a small smile as he went to brush himself off a bit. “On occasion.”

“What kind?”

“These days, electric. But not bass.”

“I’m Emma. That’s Kristi and Josh. I sing and play keyboard and acoustic guitar. Not at the same time, obviously. Kristi plays bass and Josh is our drummer. Together we’re ‘Adventures in Bass and Rhyme.’”

The Doctor looked at her with shock, but also a playful smile. “No!”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “What? Is something wrong?”

The Doctor just shook his head. “The name is just clever.”

Emma smiled. “We lost our electric guitarist, Jade, about three weeks ago. She decided to move back home to North Dakota.”

The Doctor frowned an expression of abject confusion. “…And?”

Kristi knew where Emma was going with this and decided to step forward. She trusted Emma’s instincts about musicians. “And you look like you could use some help. Why don’t you play for us? Like an audition. If you’re good enough, we’ll have you as part of the gig tonight and split the money with you.”

“I don’t have a guitar.”

Emma piped back in. “Not a problem. I have several. I collect them.” She might have blushed a little. “You wait here, we’ll go get it. And if they give you problems, just tell them you’re with the band.”

The Doctor found a near-by bench and sat down. He couldn’t quite believe his luck, but this is what his luck was like. People found him as often as he found people. He could do this for a while. Couldn’t he?

Soon the threesome returned and all of them went into the bar to get set up. Emma handed the Doctor her guitar and he set about tuning it and getting ready to play. “So what kind of music do you play?”

She shrugged. “Covers mostly. And all styles. If you’re worth your salt, you’ll be able to keep up.”

That sounded like a challenge, so the Doctor rose to the bait. He started to strum and pick (literally) his way effortlessly through rifts of several different songs. “Only the Lonely”, “Smokin’ in the Boys Room,” “Layla”, “Wheel in the Sky”, “More Than a Feeling”, “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” “Beth,” “My Immortal,” and “Amazing Grace.”

Kristi approached him with a big grin on her face. “You’ll do.”

The Doctor shrugged as he finished off “Amazing Grace.” “Well, your band name fits me well.”

Emma came over to join them. “Speaking of, what’s your name? I don’t think I ever got it.”

The Doctor offered a small smile. “The Doctor.”

Emma and Kristi looked at each other and burst out laughing. Emma finally replied, “Of course you are!”

The Doctor looked confused. “Do you know me?”

Emma and Kristi both shook their heads. But it was Kristi that answered. “Never seen you before. But you’ll be able to play anything we throw at you, so you can call yourself whatever you want.”

The Doctor couldn’t argue with that. It was actually quite a bit of fun. The band got free beer, luckily for the Doctor, the Guinness was included. He was not normally one to drink, but he saw it as part of the musician culture. Especially true for those who play in bars and pubs. Contrary to what everyone thought, he could blend in. _“Human beings are not otters!” “Exactly. It'll be even easier.”_

“Hey, Doc, you okay?”

That was Kristi, he looked over at her and just nodded. They finished out the set and then… it was time to leave. The Doctor looked around, somewhat lost. What was he to do now? He had his cut of the money, but no clue how to use it. But that wasn’t the hard part. He could do maths, so he wasn’t worried that people would try to cheat him. Besides, he had… _“Can I not be the good cop?” “Doctor, we've discussed this. Your face.”_

He was putting the guitar away and must have looked a bit more lost than he thought, because Emma approached him. “Are you going to be around awhile? I’d love to have you play with us again.”

“I don’t know. Define ‘awhile’.”

She shrugged. “A couple of weeks? A couple of months? I’ll take you as long as I can.”

The Doctor looked at the money in his hand and then had an idea. “This guitar. Does it have any meaning for you?”

“Well, it’s a musical instrument, but I don’t have any sentimental attachments if that’s what you’re asking. Why?” _“Not money. Something valuable. Sentimental value. A photograph, love letter, something like that...”_

He handed the money back to her. “I know it’s probably worth more than that, but…”

She smiled and pushed the money away. “Tell you what, we have three more gigs this week. Play for all of them and that will pay for the guitar. Besides, you bring in more tips than you realise.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll need the dates, times and places.”

He set the guitar near Emma’s belongings. She smiled as she handed him a slip of paper with the requested information. “Why don’t you take it with you? That way you can practice.”

“How do you know I’ll turn up if you give it to me now?”

She shrugged. “I’ve always been able to read people. You try to be a good man.”  _“…And that’s probably the point.”_

He shrugged.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m missing something. Something important.”

There was his TARDIS, but he knew where she was. He just needed to get to London. This was more than that. He had snatches of memories, but nothing solid. It was like everything was floating past him and he was drowning in the sea.

Josh had been extremely quiet the entire time – well, other than when he was beating on the drums. The Doctor didn’t think he was bad, but just needed a bit more experience. Reminded him a bit of Rory, actually. But after being silent all that time, the young man spoke up. “Look, if you’re going to be playing with us this week, why don’t you stay at my place? I don’t have much, just a sofa, but I won’t charge you either. Well, maybe ask you to pitch in for food.”

The Doctor smiled and nodded while he offered his hand. “Good enough offer to me.”

The Doctor could have cheated. Used his sonic on the computer or any phone, but for some reason, he felt like he had to do this on the ‘slow path’. He didn’t know why he had the gaps in his memories or how to recreate them, especially without his TARDIS. But it was a mystery, a puzzle to solve, and he loved those.

He finished out the week playing with the band as he had agreed. Josh had proven to be quite informative. He took him to a charity shop to buy some necessities and had even taught him how to do some laundry. But it was time to move on. More than anything, he needed to find his TARDIS. Everything was catching up to him, some great loss that he couldn’t identify, the four point five billion years he spent in the Confession Dial, everything that happened on Gallifrey… _“I think I'm more scared of you right now than anything else on that TARDIS.”_

 

* * *

 

UNIT had a small satellite office in Reno. Finding it was the problem. Still, he had his sonic sunglasses, so it actually wasn’t as hard to find as he thought. Getting into it proved to be the more difficult aspect. He had to wait until he saw someone entering or exiting the building. Finally, his moment came. He flashed his psychic paper at the guard, who chuckled at him. “Sorry, psychic paper doesn’t work on me.”  " _It takes quite a lack of imagination to beat psychic paper.”_

The Doctor winced his eyes, looked from the woman to the paper and back. “If you know what this is, then you know who I am.”

She raised both eyebrows. “Do I?”

“I’m the Doctor. Security visa seven one zero apple zero zero.”

The guard couldn’t recover from her shock fast enough. She saluted. “Sorry, sir. We lost track of you… Right this way.”

The Doctor allowed for the salute. He would do anything to get into that building a little faster. He followed the guard, but still gave instructions. “I need an office and a phone. As well as the directory listings for contacts in London.”

“Sir, anyone you need to contact, we can arrange, but I should really…”

“I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want anyone to know I’m here. I’ve been away for a long time.”

“Right, Sir. Just this way.”

The Guard led him to a small office that looked more like a converted broom cupboard, but it had a phone and that was all he really needed. _“I'm probably on the Tube or in outer space. Leave a message!”_

He shook his head. That was weird. There was no discernable tone to the words. It was more like he was reading the memory rather than hearing it. Soon someone knocked on the door – four times. Why does it _always_ have to be four times? He was handed a stack of papers and a laptop. This was a good start. He flipped through the stack and found the number he wanted to call.

When the call connected, a woman spoke. “No, we still haven’t located him and if you keep pestering me like this, it’s just going to take longer.”

“Kate Stewart. Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Oh, my God! Doctor!”

The shock in her voice quickly changed to something akin to anger. “Where the _hell_ have you been? We found the TARDIS parked in a London corner, but no sign of you. We feared the worst.”

“How long has it been?”

“Since we discovered the TARDIS? About seven months.”

“How were you able to find her?”

Kate remained silent.

“Kate…”

“Someone painted a mural on her. It rendered the perception filter less than fully functional.”

“Someone tagged her! That’s the last time I leave her in London for any amount of time.”

Kate took a breath. She wasn’t sure how to broach this subject with him. “Doctor, the painting. It was of Clara. It looked like a memorial. But there’s more. It’s gone missing.”

There was that name again. The name he should know. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t connect the name to anything in his memories. He realised that he had lingered too long in silence, especially considering what Kate’s last words were. He knew she wasn’t talking about the artist’s tag.

“What do you mean ‘missing’? It’s the TARDIS, it’s not like just anyone has access to her.”

“I don’t know Doctor, but we can’t find it now.”

The Doctor lapsed into silence again. He didn’t have his key, so he had no way to find her. She had no way to find him. He needed help, but he didn’t know what kind. And he was terrible at asking for such things. “Kate, can you send Osgood here?”

Her voice was gentle. “Doctor, what’s happened?”

“Kate, please. It’s important.”

Now Kate knew something was wrong. The Doctor very rarely said ‘please’ or ‘thank you.’   “I can spare both, they happen to be in the States doing what they do best.”

“Keeping the peace. Good. As quick as you can.”

With that they rang off.

It took about six hours, which felt far too long for the Doctor, but finally the Osgoods were before him. He smiled and warmly shook each of their hands. One of them now wore an Edwardian styled jacket and the other had a bit of a magician’s cape. Well, at least both were avoiding the multi-coloured coat. He doesn’t know what he was thinking when he had donned that getup.

Kate had, of course, briefed them about her concerns with the Doctor. So they were to check him over and report back to her. The Doctor suspected this to be the case, so he had to be careful with how he phrased things as he talked with them. He wanted his questions answered, but he didn’t want to alarm Kate, or anyone else.

He couldn’t tell them apart and he decided that right now, in this moment, it didn’t matter. They were right. They were both Osgood. And she saw through his attempts. “Doctor, Where’s Clara?”

He looked from one to the other. “That’s a story that perhaps you could help me tell?”

Both women frowned at him. But they nodded. With that, the Doctor recounted as much of the tale as he could. There were huge gaps, of course. He remembered trying to help Rigsy on the Trap Street, that someone had taken Rigsy’s place, that Me had laid a trap for him. “Well, ‘Trap Street,’ I suppose it’s only right.”

The Osgoods were nearly crying now, as they had pieced together what had happened to Clara. There was sorrow and confusion that the Doctor clearly didn’t remember Clara.

He continued with his story, skipping his hell in the Confession Dial, until he got to the appropriate point in his Gallifrey part of the story to tell it. When they heard he now had an additional four point five billion years worth of memories, one of them moved forward and hugged him. “Oh, Doctor, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t try very hard to fight her off and it was only a few short moments before she collected herself and returned to her seat. “Sorry.”

He knew she was apologising for hugging him. He just shook his head. “It’s all right.”

Then he completed his tale, which wasn’t much after that, really. But he shrugged. “Near as I can guess, somehow the neural block got reversed and my memory was wiped of someone. Everyone keeps mentioning ‘Clara’, so I can only assume that is who I’m missing. And me being me, I assume she travelled with me, that she was a friend?”

It was a question and not a statement. The Osgoods looked at each other and the Doctor stared at them with an expression that told them he was expecting an answer. One of them (it doesn’t matter which) spoke up. “This isn’t like the memory wipe in the Black Archive. That erases everything from the moment you’ve walked into the Archive until you leave. In this case, you remember everything but this one person, right?”

The Doctor nodded and she continued. “So, it’s more like there’s this hole in your knowledge. Well, that should be easy for you to rebuild. If you want to. But there’s something you should consider.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is that?”

The other Osgood chimed in. “That maybe you shouldn’t remember. That maybe you did this to yourself for a reason.”

“I remember snatches, though. I don’t hear any specific voice, but vague memories of words that were spoken. Or ideals: It’s enough that I try to be a good man. I’m sure she said that to me. Or something like it.”

Both Osgoods had to smile at that. And one of them spoke again. “I don’t think we can help you to remember, but maybe we can help you puzzle it out. At least enough so that you can have some basic knowledge? It won’t be the same as remembering, obviously, but might make you feel more comfortable with it.”

“If I had my TARDIS, I could fix it all.”

The other Osgood spoke. “Well, you don’t and we don’t know where she is. So, you’re just going to have to figure out how to live without those memories. But maybe we can help you gain the knowledge. It’s like a big jigsaw puzzle. Right now everything is scrambled, but maybe if we can put the pieces together, you’ll at least be able to see the picture, even if some parts of it are still missing.”

The other finished the first’s thoughts. “We’ll help however we can, but you know there are some things we can’t fix.”

He nodded thinking about all they said. “I think I’d like that. It’s a very disconcerting thing to be missing something and know you’re missing it. But…”

The two women smiled at him. “You’re tired and need some rest. We’ll take you to the safe house where we’re staying. It’s not the TARDIS, but you’ll have a bed and a place to get cleaned up.”

“Cleaned up? Is something wrong? Do I smell?”  _“I know, it’s everywhere.” “Where did you get that coat?”_

Both Osgoods offered a sympathetic smile. “No. But you just remembered something.”

He shook his head. “Just a phrase. But that could easily have been from regeneration sickness.”

Neither Osgood pressed the issue. Everyone needed a bit of a break, so they went off to the safe house.

The Doctor and the Osgoods worked for three days to try to regain as many memories as the Doctor could. But it ended up with all of them getting frustrated. The Doctor sighed heavily. “Look, this isn’t working. Just go back to London, I’ll be fine.”

One of them looked at him. “No you won’t. But you’re going to go searching for Clara and your TARDIS on your own and you feel like we’re holding you up.”

He shifted uncomfortably. When did they get to know him so well? He relented and nodded. “I just think I need to do this on my own.”

They both nodded and then took turns giving him a hug. “Don’t be a complete stranger. And if you need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

He nodded once. “I promise if I get in trouble, I’ll call for help.”

Both Osgoods nodded again. “Good.” One of them reached into her pocket and pulled out a mobile and handed it to him. “It’s got our numbers and a few other key numbers pre-programmed.”

He accepted the phone and pocketed it. “Thank you.”

With that, he set off on his solo adventure.

The Osgoods were right, he wasn’t fine. But he was right, too, this was something he had to do on his own. Several weeks passed. Occasionally, he would fire a text to them, asking them to research one thing or another. He realised that he had spent a surprisingly small amount of time on Earth while traveling with Clara. Well, at least to date, he couldn’t travel in time just now, so it’s possible they had more information – just not yet.

He was able to piece together a surprising amount of information, with the scant bits of information he had. But no matter how much he tried, his brain could not retain the information. It was similar to when a parent shows photos of some vacation from when a child was very small now that said child is an adult. The child might recognise some of the images, but there’s no emotional connection to the events. No actual memories; just memories of the photograph.

The Doctor had no choice but to accept that the neural block had worked on him. No matter how many pieces of the puzzle he found, no matter how much knowledge he could gain about Clara and her life, he would never again actually remember anything about her.

He hadn’t given up on finding Clara, not exactly, but it was time to start searching for his TARDIS. The problem was: no key. Still, he figured if she had figured out a way to move and search for him, she would have known where he returned, so he decided to search along the Utah-Nevada boarder. He was hitchhiking again, but most people seemed kindly enough.

A woman in a red pickup-truck stopped to see if he needed help. She was kind enough to offer him a ride. They followed the road for a few hours and this time, it was the Doctor who kept conversation going. Mostly nonsense about what he was doing out there and searching for, but it was enough to keep the ride from getting uncomfortable.

He sensed something. A feeling at the back of his head, something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. In the distance he saw a structure. The closer they got, the stronger the feeling became. “Can you stop up here, please?”

The woman shrugged. “Sure. Strange, though I don’t remember that building being here last time I drove this way.”

“Well, buildings have a habit of going up quickly, when people want them to.”

“That’s a fact. The cities keep getting busier and bigger and spaces between keep getting bigger. Good luck, Doctor.”

_“Good luck, Doctor.”_

The truck stopped and the Doctor got out, gathered his belongings and entered… Well, let’s be honest. Now that he was here, standing in front of it, he knew. This was a TARDIS. And not just any TARDIS. This was the TARDIS he had used to escape Gallifrey. He smiled to himself as he pulled the door and entered a… diner. Interesting. Not the worst disguise ever.

There was a waitress sat behind the counter. She turned and greeted him. And he knew. He didn’t remember. He would never remember. But he _knew_ this was Clara. Perhaps talking to her would allow the rest of the missing pieces to fall into place…

After telling her the story of their last adventure together, he wanted her to know that he was okay. That was the point of all of this. He was always rubbish at goodbyes and endings. When Clara told him that she could be anyone, even her, he had to be careful. It would be easier for her to not know that he had figured it out. So instead he offered her the only truth he could at that point. “There's one thing I know about her. Just one thing. If I met her again, I would absolutely know.”

He saw her lower her eyes, the heartbreak there. Because she didn’t hear what he was saying. He tried to give her that bit of peace. Well, there was nothing else he could do. He had to turn away from her at that point.

Once Clara had collected herself, he had to make one last effort to tell her that he had worked it out. He mentioned that the diner used to be in another location. She still didn’t quite understand. Well, that would have to do. She did offer him one piece of comfort, though. “Maybe some of them become songs…”

He would cling to that with all his might, because that was a memory of Clara. Everything else was just knowledge – information that he had learned. Those words were a memory and maybe, if he was very lucky, he could build from there. At the very least, he knew he could move on now. He had found her and she was safe. That was all that mattered to him.

Suddenly, he heard the engines of a TARDIS and when he looked around him, he was standing in the desert again. He turned around feeling a little lost. He normally wasn’t the one left behind like that. Damn it, there went his sonic specks.

But, then he turned around again and… there she was. _His_ TARDIS. With the graffiti… He whispered softly, “Rigsy, you outdid yourself.”

Now, he was hesitant. He didn’t know if she would take him back. It had been such a long time…. He couldn’t sense her, not like usual. He hoped she was just asleep. That she had gone into a power-saving mode. He hoped she hadn’t died in his absence. He had no key, so he figured the doors wouldn’t open, but then, if he’s just a little bit… nice…

The doors creaked open. He entered the darkened TARDIS and held his breath. There was dust blowing in from the outside, but something felt off. How long had it been for her? Did she know how many billions of years it had been for him? Would she forgive him for leaving her behind for such a long time?

He rested his hand on a rail and slowly, she woke up. As if a bit of energy from his hand was all she needed. And then he felt it, her quiet presence at the back of his mind. And as the time rotor became fully lit, he felt rather than heard her voice: “ _Welcome home, my Pilot_.”

Finally, finally, he could move. He set his guitar aside and made his way up a set of stairs. He changed his jacket in silence, debating what to say to her – to the TARDIS. How to explain everything…

He heard a sound and saw a new sonic device that she tossed his way. He caught it easily and activated it. He smiled as he saw that it was reminiscent of her blue-box shape. Again, she seemed to say to him, “ _So that you won’t feel separated from me again_.”

With that, he snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors closed. He made his way to the console and pulled the throttle. He slowly moved around the console, just enjoying being home again. He looked up at the time rotor. She was a better judge of time than he would ever be. He could ask her. “How long was it for you?”

There was a beep and he looked at one of the monitors:

`As long as it has been for you. I waited for you. I will always wait for you.`

He nodded as he stroked along the edge of the console. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I missed you.”

`And I you. You are weary. Let me care for you, My Doctor.`

He was weary, but he hadn't realised just how much until she mentioned it.  Yes, let her take care of him and when he's more rested he can give her a proper check-up.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus concludes my collection of S9 one-shots. To everyone who commented, left kudos, bookmarked or simply read any of them: thank you so very much. I might write for myself, but you all are the reason why I continue to share/post ☺


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